


Sometimes Surrender Can Be Blissful

by Metal_Gear_XANA



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, One-Shot, Smut, Top Claude can have rights for once, bottom edelgard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Gear_XANA/pseuds/Metal_Gear_XANA
Summary: Edelgard/Claude, smut-shot, Post-TS, established relationship.Claude suggests a game to play in bed of all time: a battle of wits, in which they compete to see who crumbles under the words and touch of the other. Edelgard never wishes to lose control, for it is something that she did not have when she was experimented on many years ago.Yet perhaps sometimes letting go can be cathartic and a wonderful experience... especially in the presence of someone you love.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Edelclaude Exchange 2020





	Sometimes Surrender Can Be Blissful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the1eyedtree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the1eyedtree/gifts).



Sometimes Surrender Can Be Blissful 

**A/N: Merry Christmas to you** **the1eyedtree (I read your Edelclaude fic that has Dimivain; it is extremely promising!), whom requested this deliciously saucy 'NSFW Option: Claude teases Edelgard both verbally and physically in bed, it’s like a game of chess and of wits but he’s winning and honestly she loves it'. Everything about this option screamed Edelclaude to me, and I has a blast writing it! I hope you (and other readers) enjoy!**

* * *

Claude’s kisses are quite indicative of his true character: endearing, confident, playful, and adoring. Deft fingers impatiently try to unbutton Edelgard’s ornate dress, and she can’t help but smile into his kisses at how eager he is. With the buttons undone his mouth retracts from hers, and he presses kisses of veneration along her throat. Her breath hitches when he suckles lightly near the dip of her collarbones, and she feels a smug smile on Claude’s face.

“What say we have a game, Princess?” Claude declares, his hot breath tingling along her throat.

A breathless laugh escapes her. Lilac lock with emerald eyes, and she sees lust and love present in her husband. “You are the only one I can think of who would try to play a game during sex.”

“Oh? Have you been sleeping with others?” Claude pulls back and emits an exaggerated faux-gasp, the mock flabbergast further heightened by a hand to his agape mouth. “You wound me, Edelgard!”

A sly smile crosses the pallor woman as she brings a hand under his tunic to rub patterns along his chest. He indulges her with a throaty groan and a scrunch of pleasure upon his once haughty face. Even as she rubs her hand along his sensitive chest he manages to grin knowingly up at her. Near her breast he mouths the fabric of her bra where an erect nipple is. She instantly freezes and grunts at his teasing yet delightful tongue. 

But he pulls away (it took all her willpower to suppress a disappointed whine) and winks up at her. “I think you know what game I’d like to play.”

Ah. So it is going to be a game of wits and banter.

Their relationship had begun as a dance of intellects: goading one to spill out their secrets, and learning how to manipulate them for the other’s ambitions. The enigmatic Claude was her most worthy foe—the boy with a tongue so golden and full of prose that his words are like magic, able to curry favour from seemingly anyone regardless of their backgrounds. It always amuses and warms her when she thinks how their game of wits during the Academy days made them fall for each other: the last person they ever imagined to find and share love with. Life truly is unpredictable, even when Edelgard is so stubborn to have control over her actions and to be always prepared for anything. 

Claude is one of the only pleasant surprises to happen in her life.

Something soft and warm registers against her cheek. It is cupped and directed towards Claude, who watches her with an oxymoronic mix of devilish interest and concern for her spacing out. Always considerate regardless of any situation involving them. A genuine smile crosses her face as her free hand runs her fingers along his hair.

“Know that I am not going to lose to you,” Edelgard decrees with a confidence that would convince anyone, save for her husband.

A wolfish grin spreads across Claude’s face up to his ears. “Challenge accepted.” He retracts his hand from her cheek, leans closer to be by her ear, and slowly runs and drums his fingers along her exposed defined abbs. “But you forget, my dear El, that I know your weak points.”

Edelgard wastes no time to make her powerful move by grasping the back of his neck and slamming his lips into hers. If he thinks she doesn’t know any of his then he is grossly underestimating her. The hand under his tunic rubs harder and traces around one nipple. She hears him gutturally groan into her mouth, earning her a haughty smirk as she uses her tongue to trace the seam of his lips. After indulging in his chest she carefully takes off his tunic, all the while her other hand keeps his neck anchored down so his lips never leaves hers. She feels herself falling onto the bed, and her dress naturally slipping off her person. As if that would break her grip on him. 

But she forgets whom she is dealing with.

Nimble fingers tickle her naked ribs and waist. Taut muscles spasm along those fingers, unable to fight the body’s senses growing overwhelmed. Feeling the air building up in her throat for a series of laughs Edelgard has no choice but to pull away from Claude and burst out laughing. On instinct her eyes crinkle and shut tight as she continues her hysterics. Damning mouth grins rapturously as her husband continues his onslaught.

“My, my, you have quite the sensitive body~!” Claude coos, and through quick successions of opening and closing her eyes she sees him beaming.

One of his hands undoes her bra, and when discarded he slowly and gradually, as if treating her delicately, runs his finger in a circular motion over a teat. Edelgard hums hoarsely through her dying chuckles, face scrunched in a mixture of pleasure and annoyance as she manages to glower at the coy Claude. He shoots her his award-winning smile and descends his mouth to pepper kisses along her largest scar allocated between her breasts. Damn him—he knows how much she loves when he lays reverent kisses along her scars. Edelgard will never love her scars; they are terrible and haunting reminders that she is a living weapon, and someone who failed to protect her family. A weapon that was unable to protect those dearest to her… how utterly, vehemently pitiful—

“You’re stunning, Princess,” Claude’s voice breaks through her sudden turn to pessimistic thoughts, garnering her attention to his mouth kissing around her left breast, all the while purposely avoiding the nipple. “An aphrodisiac warrior in the flesh, a work of art that needs not be corrected.”

Of course he is perceptive enough to know when her mind wanders. That awe-struck smile he shoots her, with his emerald eyes, usually deceptively warm around others, so openly expressing his love to her that she knows with utmost certainty that he is truthful and aware of her self-doubts. Hearing his words and seeing him enamoured brings a genuine and adoring smile to her face. With one hand she runs her fingers through his hair, knowing very well how much he loves when she does it. Oh how she loves him dearly, as he to her.

Her loving thoughts vanquish the moment he suckles her left nipple. Her back arches to the touch and she chokes out a delighted whine. She feels his other hand trace down along her abdomen unto her smallclothes where her cunt is located. In an agonising pace he traces his index finger around the fabric, occasionally kneading it, all the while using his teeth to brush along her teat and his tongue to salivate it. Edelgard throws her head back against the pillow and emits an elongated moan that reverberates along her body. Her bottom lips roll and scrunch under her upper one. Oh, oh—Goddess, this is… this is pure ecstasy.

Sucking in a moan she manages to lift her head off the pillow to glare (or whatever the closest to glaring one can create when said owner’s face is contorting with pleasure) at Claude. “You… You took advantage of my daze!”

Innocently Claude retracts from her nipple, looks up with fluttering eyelashes, and merely shrugs. His free hand pinches her buttock, causing her to flinch. “El… you should know by now to _never_ let your guard down.”

Grumbling in defiance the emperor tries to reach for his obvious erection tented against his trousers, only for him to angle himself to dodge and press his busy fingers along where her clit is located. Edelgard instantly freezes and falls rigid against the mattress, her body shuddering and her voice box creating a broken scream that escapes her thrown back head. She had just, for a brief moment, turned to jelly. Knuckles turn whiter than her pallor skin, a miracle, as they clutch at the fabric for dear life, as if doing so would compose her sensitive nerves. His chinstrap beard tickles along her skin as Claude licks so tantalisingly slow along her abs, a pleasant sensation that she refuses to admit to her husband but knows very well that he knows. When he reaches her smallclothes, drenched by his teasing touches, he lingers a kiss against the damp fabric. Ah, oh—oh her thoughts are vaporising—! 

She’s losing this game.

She lacks the energy and strength to turn the tables. There is no way that she can win.

And yet… she doesn’t mind.

Control is something she always seeks to maintain, regardless of the situation she is in. Sex is something that causes her to loosen her desire to be in control, but the idea of fully giving it up has always been… daunting. Perhaps she is being silly, perhaps she is being paranoid, yet after being dissected, torn apart, and stitched back up, she has every right to be weary of being vulnerable.

Now though… in the comforts of her husband, a man so very much like her, the last person she had ever thought to fall for and open up to with her darkest secrets… she finds herself at peace. But she has too much pride to ever tell him that. It will inflate his ego. Not that he isn’t already being extremely, although understandable, smug right now.

His golden tongue halts its process of teasing her damp smallclothes, only to then be replaced by his hands slowly lowering the garments until they are discarded. Finding the strength she battles gravity to lift up her head and stare down at him, cheeks flushed and sweat against her brows, bottom lips rolled, and lilac eyes struggling to keep open. Emerald eyes gleam up at her like a cat having caught its prey. With one hand he tousles the platinum hair along her cunt, all the while grinning with the confidence of a winner.

“Dear me: could it be that I am winning?” Claude remarks with mock surprise in his tone. He chuckles at his jest, eyes crinkled and his teeth flashing. He has a lovely laugh.

With his eyes open he slowly licks her inner right thigh, his attention never leaving her face. “Perhaps I should show you some mercy…?”

A startled yelp escapes the tanned man when Edelgard wraps her legs around his head to anchor him in place. Whilst she does love abandoning her obsession of control with her husband she wasn’t going to have him mess around. Through the tuft of hair she sees his head vibrate with that of someone chuckling over a wonderful time. Without further ado he dives like a man starved for days.

Edelgard’s body arches as his tongue maps her cunt, and then she slowly, one spinal disc at a time, sinks into the duvet. Her eyes close and her hands clench the fabric, her mind and body wriggling to a tune in her head that sung ecstasy and lulled her with bliss. Every lap of Claude’s golden tongue made her body squirm around in some peculiar yet mesmerising dance along the fabric. When his tongue laps at her clit her body jolts and an elongated whine escapes the seemingly stoic emperor. Singing accompanies the dance as she withers around, the conductor being Claude as he conducts this melody with his devoted tongue and lips.

Her hips buck against his mouth, and he takes it by further pressing his tongue into her. This is the beauty of losing control: raw, at ease, and only thinking of the love she feels towards her husband. One of his hands gently pries her clenched fist open so that he can grip it. She chants his name, the only time she will ever chant towards anything, over and over. Warmth coalesces to her groin; she is close, _so close_. Thus a broken scream emits from her agape mouth, and her body jerks one last time as she unloads unto her husband’s face.

Edelgard gasps, seemingly evading drowning, as her body heaves for much needed air. Recovering her strength she uses her elbows to push herself up to have a look at her no doubt proud husband. Claude pulls back, his award-winning grin matching the white substance upon his face. Carefully he crawls over her and then rests his chin against her chest, his eyes gleaming playfully yet lovingly at her. White eyelashes flutter at him, and Edelgard can’t help but crack a smile. It amuses her as she recalls how long ago, when they first made love, and even the first few times after, they were both so incredibly shy.

“I remember you being once so flustered and shy the first time you brought your head between my legs,” Edelgard comments, a smirk forming as Claude chuckles nervously at the recollection. “Not that I wasn’t any better.”

“Is this some fancy way of you trying to rile up the winner?” Claude jests with a wink.

“Must everything be a mind game to you?” The emperor snorts and rolls her eyes, but it isn’t in mean spiritedness. “I am merely—what does it matter? I have lost.”

Claude grins triumphantly, and his eyes sparkle with whimsical mischievousness. One of his fingers plays with a loose silver lock of hair. His lips lay chaste kisses along the mighty scar on her chest. Afterwards he looks up with a sly expression that Edelgard can easily read as him planning something. She quirks an eyebrow out of a mix of curiosity and understanding of his upcoming scheme; if he has something to say, then say it. He feigns shyness as he continues to play with her lock of hair, an oh-so innocent pout directed up at her.

“What does the winner receive when there is no accolades or medals given?” Claude starts, a brief pause when he kisses her throat. “And what does the loser do for the winner?”

Ah, so _that’s_ what he wants.

One of her hands trails along the coarse hairs of his chest down to the navel, only for him to halt her progress. Startled she eyes Claude tutting and wagging a free finger in her face. He then stands up to unlace his trousers and slip his smallclothes off, freeing his still-beating erection. Completely naked he circles around, and Edelgard pivots on the bed to follow his movement with wonder. Claude climbs atop the bed and rests his back against the headboard, legs lazily stretched out along the duvet. Hazy eyes stare, the lust present and as unsubtle as someone slamming an axe into their face, with a loving smile to match.

“Well, Princess? Bring your cute butt on over here to find out the answers.”

Edelgard can’t help but heave some hefty laughs, eyes closed and crinkled to match the explosion of mirth that consumed her. She has never admitted to her husband that he is quite humorous—she may have hinted that he is a bit funny, albeit annoying—for any compliment will inflate his ego. But he knows, and never says it aloud, because he knows it goads her ego.

Without a word she crawls on over. Carefully she turns around so her back is pressed against his chest. Then slowly and gradually she lowers her buttocks onto his erect cock. They both simultaneously let out elongated sighs of ecstasy. Edelgard brings her head to meet the crook of his neck, her lips brushing along his throat with loving kisses. Claude brings one hand to her right breast and the other down the juncture of her thighs, and then slowly he begins to rock his hips into her backside. A guttural groan throatily echoes from Edelgard, and she can’t help but bite down on her lips and tightly close her eyes. Those warm massages and occasional pinches of her teat, the fingering of her cunt and thumbing of her clit, and Claude’s thrusting overwhelmed her person and soul.

Claude then moves his hand away from her breast to thumb any scars he came into contact with. Edelgard’s old wounds flared as if she sat by a pleasant fireplace, yet her body shivered to his touches as if she is freezing. She giggles as his beard tickled along her ear as he nuzzled her in time to his thrusts.

“You are magnificent,” Claude utters with veneration as he kisses her thrown back throat. A grunt escapes him after she bobs unto him. “Stunning, perfect…”

Edelgard laughs breathlessly, a delighted hiss escaping her when he increased the pace of his fingering. “You… flatter me…”

He captures her lips into a passionate and loving kiss. When he pulls away he shakes his head and smiles, “Never. I only speak the truth with you.”

She rests her forehead against his and utters, through a squeak (oh he better not be smirking or cooing), that she truly loves him. He utters that he loves her, and then peppers kisses along the scars on her back. She feels herself nearing the climax, as indicated by her hands tightly gripping Claude’s thighs and her body jerking forward. A few more massages of her breast, churning her cunt and thumbing her clit, and thrusts, she chocks out a cry and arches against Claude’s back. For a moment only white filled her vision, and the only physical sensation she felt was the creamy substance and warmth of her husband. Every muscle spasmed when she collapsed her weight, body weak as a ragdoll. Together they panted from the strenuous task they committed themselves to. Claude laid a few chaste kisses along her left cheek to ease her. Edelgard laid back her head against his shoulder, eyes shut, smiling as she felt Claude’s adoring kisses tickle the bridge of her nose and then meeting her at her lips.

“Perhaps… losing has its perks,” she manages to breathe out, her lilac eyes now gazing fondly up at her husband.

Claude looks positively boyish with his whimsical grin.


End file.
